


you are the reoccurring kind

by skinsharpenedteeth (Skinsharpenedteeth)



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Blow Jobs, Bottom Michael Guerin, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, Drunk Sex, Drunk Texting, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Porn with Feelings, Rimming, Shower Sex, Smut, Top Alex Manes, so much fucking angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-30
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:42:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26189686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skinsharpenedteeth/pseuds/skinsharpenedteeth
Summary: Michael Guerin didn’t think people could be soulmates or cosmically bonded. He also didn’t understand how he always knew the second Alex Manes stepped foot back on Roswell soil. It wasn’t like the bond with his siblings where he could reach out and feel their presence with his mind. It was more like being a German Shepard and hearing a far off dog whistle calling him home.
Relationships: Michael Guerin/Alex Manes
Comments: 28
Kudos: 103





	you are the reoccurring kind

**Author's Note:**

> Just a quick note about the Mildly Dubious Consent tag... as you'll see pretty quickly, Michael is not in a good headspace during most of this story. He's drunk and overwrought when he decides to have sex with Alex. I don't really feel like there was any coercion by Alex, but he was sober and Michael is drunk so... *shrugs* I guess take that as you will. Hope you enjoy it. 
> 
> Also, the title was taken from the song "You Will. You? Will. You? Will. You? Will." by Bright Eyes.

The sun had been brutal that day. Every time he’d touched a surface besides his own skin, he’d felt like he was being blistered from the heat. It left his fingers feeling raw and all he wanted was some relief from the onslaught of fire and light. It didn’t help that an awareness kept nagging at him, like a lead balloon settling to ground in his stomach, making him cranky and on edge on top of dealing with the sweltering desert sun. The feeling was familiar enough for him to recognize that he’d had it before, but he couldn’t pinpoint what it was exactly and that made him irritable as much as the sweat stinging his eyes did. Usually, he’d be able to hide away somewhere during the hottest part of the afternoon to drink a cold one and take some time to meditate on his feelings, but that day Sanders had been around and ready to fire him if he didn’t finish a certain car before end of business. Consequently, Michael felt wrung out and thin skinned by the time he’d stumbled into the Wild Pony to drink himself into a giddy stupor. Maybe he’d find some trouble tonight if he was lucky. Maybe the buzzing in his brain would shut up if he poured enough tequila onto it. Maybe he’d even ask for ice in his whiskey to cool him off.

Michael felt his feet scrape the packed dirt of the Wild Pony parking lot as he drug himself still grease stained and damp from sweat into the dark, cool bar before the sun had even set. The car he’d worked on wasn’t a hard job, but it was a heavy one that took far too much effort and time and his body felt beat up at the end of it. Once he’d slammed the finished invoice on Sanders’ desk, he’d grabbed his hat off the rack and his truck keys, hightailing it straight to the bar with barely a look backwards.

The bar was almost empty in the early afternoon except for a handful of other afternoon regulars. Drunks that didn’t have day jobs or only worked enough to get money to pay for their place on the bar stool. Michael didn’t ever want to be like them, but he also recognized that a corner stool was open and looked inviting to the mean gremlin in the back of his mind. He shook his head and turned to survey all the open spots in the building, enjoying the blast of A/C that hit him as soon as the door had opened. It felt like walking into a meat locker it was so crisp and cool. That would change as the bodies piled in for beer and pool and the ever-constant search for companionship, but right now it felt like the North Pole on a winter morning. He waved towards Mimi DeLuca at the bar and sidled over to a booth along the wall where the air-conditioned vent would hit him straight in the face. As he sat down he sighed long and hard, letting contentment wash over him as the anticipation of being pleasantly blitzed later settled in his mind.

“Long day, cowboy?” Mimi asked, setting down a water on the coaster in front of him and eyeing him up and down. She wasn’t flirting, he knew, but just scrutinizing what kind of drunk he was going to be today. They’d done this dance a lot since he’d become legal and actively self-destructive.

“The longest. Give me five shots of your cheapest tequila,” he ordered, grinning at her disapproving look. She nodded and walked back towards the bar without a word though. She’d long since stopped trying to mother him over how he decided to destroy his body. He wasn’t worth her time and both of them knew it.

Michael slunk down on the bench seat and closed his eyes, enjoying the cool air on his face while he waited for Mimi to get back. The pleather of the seat creaked under body and he extended his legs out under the table and propped them on the empty seat across from him. He could almost fall asleep like that, his body ready to forget the tequila and just dream for a couple hours. If he thought that were a real possibility, he’d leave with his money and go back to the Airstream to do just that, but sleep never came easy to Michael. He could be so tired he’d be weeping with the desire to just not be for a little while and his brain would hum along with one mistake or memory after another until he sought an alternative route to Slumberland. He jerked when Mimi came back and set down his shots. He hadn’t been asleep, but he’d found that meditative half-consciousness that fueled him through most of his life.

“That’s twenty-five,” she let him know, waiting for him to dig out his wallet from his back pocket. He handed her thirty and picked up with first shot and downed it without much ado. When he sat back, fingers still holding the glass lightly and breath coming out hard from the burn of the cheap stuff, she started fishing in her apron for change. He waved at her without saying a word and she nodded back in acknowledgement. He wouldn’t say it was in thanks because Mimi Deluca never thanked him for anything. She might thank him for not darkening her doorstep again, but then he’d have to find a new place to drink where the staff knew to leave him alone when he was in a mood like the one he was in today.

“Alex Manes is in town,” she mentioned casually, taking out a rag and making a show of wiping down the seat across from his before pushing his boots off and taking a seat. Michael felt his stomach lurch and he gave her a narrow look, picking up the next shot and downing it in response. She shrugged and looked out at the four other patrons scattered around the room. “Maria mentioned it. Just thought you’d want to catch up with an old high school friend. He’s only on here on leave for a couple days. Then he’s getting sent back to the Middle East for another tour.”

“We weren’t exactly friends in high school, I’m not sure he’d even want to see me,” he replied, knowing he sounded sulky and petulant. Mimi gave him a sharp look, seeing through his shit just like always.

“Well, you were something. He always looked at you like you were a problem he couldn’t quite figure out and you always looked at him like he was the only answer to any question worth asking. Maybe you should look him up while he’s in town,” she commented, stacking the two empty shot glasses and leaving him to think about her suggestion. He watched after her, starting to feel the fuzzy edges of warmth from the tequila take hold of his consciousness.

How did he tell her that he had seen Alex Manes _every_ time he’d come back home on leave? Or that he’d actually visited him once or twice when he was stationed somewhere within a day’s drive? Seven years since that day in the shed and every time Alex came home, he burst through Michael’s heart like a cannonball leaving just as much shredded evidence that he’d been through as a real one would. And Alex would just keep moving forward, not a dent or scratch to show he’d torn through Michael once again. It made Michael feel like just part of the rounds. Alex would see Maria, endure his father, pretend to be straight with his bros and then find Michael, where ever he may be, and crawl under his skin to hide for a few hours while systematically breaking down all of Michael’s emotional defenses and raising another sexual peak for someone else to try and top. Then he’d leave. Michael would mourn like a faithful pet and have to slowly fill in the hollow spaces that Alex had made for himself while he was there.

He took another shot. Maybe if he was hammered Alex would turn around and go back to his father’s house? Maybe if he drove out to the desert and slept in the back of his truck for the next week he could avoid this round of heartbreak? But then maybe he’d miss his chance to see Alex smile the way he’d only smile for Michael. He’d miss the feel of his skin brushing against Michael’s as he turned over in that sweet sleep they’d find between rounds of pressing themselves into one another. He’d miss giving Alex the chance to say he’d stay and that he loved him and that it was more than some protracted high school fling that neither of them could bear to end.

But it felt inevitable, this thing between them. Hearing Mimi’s announcement that he was in town clued Michael into what he’d been feeling all day. Inertia. It didn’t matter if he got shit faced, the universe would still tumble his sotted ass into Alex because he was always in a state of heading towards him anyway. The same end always awaited him. All Alex had to do was exist and Michael would crawl over a lava field to press his forehead against the skin of his ankles and when Alex stepped away, Michael would move towards him once more trying to recapture their bond. It wasn’t healthy, this obsession he felt towards Alex, but no one had ever made him feel so needed or so desperate for love. No one could calm the frenetic energy in his bones while winding him up to bursting. No one else tasted like starlight and infinite possibility the way Alex did. No one knew the seams of all his pieces so blindly and left him quite so torn apart.

His stomach rolled and he thought maybe he should’ve ordered something solid with his liquid dinner. Michael drank down half the glass of water and looked out across the bar to distract himself with the way the tequila was starting to make him feel floaty. More people were filtering in. The after-work crowd was always loud and brash and high on that feeling of temporary freedom from responsibility. Normally they were his favorite people to hustle for free drinks or Texas rounders in the bathroom, but he no longer felt like seeing or dealing with anyone tonight. He eyed the last two shots in contemplation.

Shrugging to himself, he picked them up in quick succession and downed them. He’d paid for them after all. Now he just had to race them home before they made him sleepy or weepy or suicidal. He slipped out of the booth and waited for Mimi to be busy before heading to his truck. He didn’t think she’d stop him, but he’d never done 5 shots in less than two hours and then tried to drive home. He just couldn’t stand to be there anymore in the steadily more jubilant atmosphere, and he didn’t want anyone to save him tonight. He could go home and pass out and forget about Alex Manes. He could stop chasing a dream.

* * *

When Michael stumbled into the airstream half an hour later, he had no clue how he hadn’t just died. He remembered driving. He remembered feeling like driving was a terrible idea and that he absolutely should not be doing it in the condition he was in. He remembered waiting to see another car on the road or a deer or anything that would spook him into swerving and flipping his truck, but he hadn’t. He’d made it back to the airstream. When he’d opened the car door, he’d fallen out and found himself looking at the everything sideways until he turned his head and looked at the stars swirling drunkenly in the sky. The earth was hard and still hot under him from the sweltering day. The gravel and dust clung to the side where he’d landed, digging into his skin. For as drunk as he was, shouldn’t he be number than this to discomfort?

It had taken him way too long to navigate making himself stand up so he could stagger the five steps to the trailer door. His hand gripped the door handle hard and he’d lurched and crawled up the two stairs into the airstream’s interior. Once inside, he immediately began to undress. He no longer wanted to wear the dirty, sweat stained work shirt. He didn’t want to wear the rough, torn jeans or his ragged underwear. He didn’t want to feel the caked layer of dust, grease, and salt that covered him head to toe. And he didn’t want to think that when Alex found him later he’d be too gross to touch.

That thought had him pause, naked and swaying in the door to the bathroom. Maybe Alex should find him gross. Maybe Alex deserved to see what it did to him to know he was in town, acting normal by day only to find Michael after all the lights in the town had gone out and show his real skin. Maybe Alex should know that Michael was as filthy on the outside as he was being treated. If Michael was going to be kept like a dirty secret, maybe he should just stay dirty. Who was Alex Manes to treat Michael like he was something shameful? He should tell Alex that. Should tell him not to come and see him anymore. Not to expect any further special treatment from Michael.

Making a decision, he turned and tried to grab his jeans from the floor so he could get his phone. He fell, landing hard with his shoulder digging into the cabinet door handles. Hissing, he ignored the pain and scrambled to pull the hard rectangle from his crusty jeans. He opened the screen and debated texting or calling before realizing he didn’t think he could coordinate his fingers well enough to text while this hammered. The tequila was starting to give his body ultimatums on whether it too would stay or go. The pain where he’d fallen against the door handle was stinging and he looked over to see blood running down his arm. Groaning, he reached up and hauled himself off the floor and onto his bed. He surveyed the contents of the trailer for something that he could see to dull the ache. A couple empty bottles of acetone lay on their sides at his worktable. He’d forgotten to buy more. A half empty bottle of Jose Cuervo sat across from him on the stove. He reached over and opened the bottle one handed, unscrewing the top with his thumb. He sloppily poured some over the wound ‘to clean it’ and then took a hearty swallow ‘for courage’. Swaying where he sat, he looked down at the phone again and found Alex in his contacts, hitting Call before he could talk himself out of it.

“Hello?” Alex answered the phone. Michael stayed silent, listening to the music and laughter emanating from the background noise. It didn’t sound like the Pony. Maybe that new gay bar in town? Maybe Alex was trying to replace him, take up another so he didn’t have to put up with Michael’s melodrama. Did Michael want that? Alex sounded good though a little confused as to why Michael was actually calling him instead of just waiting around to his turn at Alex’s attention, but…. Still, so good.

"Michael?” Alex whispered his name into the phone. Michael could almost see him turning and walking away from whoever he was with so they wouldn’t hear him say Michael’s name, wouldn’t know who had called him. Michael was breaking the rules. Alex was supposed to come to him when he wanted and he wasn’t supposed to go looking for him. He was the bad thing that had to be done with no body else’s knowledge so they wouldn’t judge Alex.

“Guerin, are you there?” Alex asked again, voice a little louder but still hushed compared to the environment around him. Michael hoped that was concern he was hearing but decided it must be something more akin to frustration. What was he doing? Why had he called Alex?

“Don’t come over tonight,” Michael finally bit out. Then he waited, silent. He knew he should hang up and make his point. That’s all he’d called to say, right?

“Okay,” Alex replied slowly, drawing out the work and definitely sounding confused. “I’m in town for another couple days. Maybe tomo—”

“NO, ALEX. Don’t come over ANY NIGHT! I don’t want you to!” Michael yelled, hearing the slur in his voice and knowing he’d said too much. When he’d yelled, he’d apparently swung the arm not holding the phone and he heard the resulting crash of beer bottles hitting the trailer floor.

“Are you okay? You sound drunk. Are you at the Pony? Do I need to come get you?” Alex asked, voice sharpening with concern. Michael scoffed.

“Fuck you. I don’t need you to take care of me. And I don’t want you to come here. I don’t want to see you, Alex. I don’t want to know you. I don’t want to love you. I’m fucking over this shit,” Michael babbled, sinking backwards into the worn thin mattress of his bed. He’d misjudged how close he’d been to the window though and his cut arm scraped against the rough edges of the window pane. “Fuck, Ow!”

“Michael!” Alex’s voice trilled in his ear, sounding alarmed and concerned. Michael heard a muffled male voice ask Alex a question and the muffled scrape of Alex’s hand covering the receiver as he answered ‘It’s fine. I’ll be there in a minute.’

“Ugh, I’m getting blood all over my fucking blanket,” Michael said distractedly, sitting back up and looking around for a towel.

“Why are you bleeding? ARE YOU OKAY?” Alex asked, voice beginning to sound frantic or as frantic as he ever sounded. Disaster didn’t really touch Alex the way it would touch normal people. Not after his childhood. Not after what he’d seen with the military.

“I’m FINE. I just cut myself. It just blood, I’ll be fine. Fuck, why is there so much blood?” Michael asked aloud as he grabbed his dirty shirt from the floor to press against the wound. There were a few scattered drops on his sheets and he’d have to get the hydrogen peroxide to see if he could get them out.

“I’m coming over there, Michael,” Alex snapped. Michael felt himself jerk to attention. He’d forgotten he was on the phone. Alex’s statement made his irrational anger bubble up again.

“Noooo. No don’t come over here. I don’t want to see you. Haven’t you been fucking listening? I…” he breathed heavily, almost seeing the liquor vapors in the air from where he was huffing out his breaths. He tried to summon up the last parts of him that were sober to keep telling Alex to stay away, but instead he started blurting out whatever came to mind. “I haven’t even showered. I’m disgusting. Don’t come over. I’m fine, I’m fine. My bloods just thin from the tequila. You don’t need to care about me. I’m not worth it. I’m disgusting. I’ll be fine. I’ll either wake up tomorrow morning or I’ll choke on my vomit and die. It’s… whatever, really. Stay with your friends. Have a good night, Alex.”

If Alex replied, Michael didn’t hear him because his eyes drifted shut and he was not aware of anything for a while.

* * *

When Michael woke up, he was still aching from his shoulder and he was still very drunk…and he was alone. He looked around the airstream, hoping to see Alex somewhere doing something…something to take care of him. When he didn’t see him and after lying very still in the dark, didn’t hear him, Michael felt his heart shred and shatter in his chest. He was supposed to come save him. He was supposed to come take care of him. He was supposed to show up and love Michael and then tomorrow! Tomorrow he’d feel this way. But not tonight. Tonight, he was supposed to be loved.

The tears fell first, but the sobs that clawed out of his throat came soon after. He hated himself for calling Alex and telling him not to come over. He hated himself for wanting to see Alex more than he ever wanted to save himself from pain. He hated the weak, high-pitched sounds that pushed past his teeth when he tried to stop himself from giving into this despair and he hated the low, open mouthed howls that echoed into the stuffing of his pillow as he rolled into a ball to try and hold himself together even while he knew he was broken beyond repair.

Hands smoothed over his shoulders and started pulling at him to turn over, away from the muffled safety of the pillow. He fought those hands, trying to shake them off even as he tried to curl further into himself. This ghost needed to let him bleed everything out.

“Michael!” a familiar voice called, breaking through his haze a little. “Michael, stop! STOP!”

He stilled, following the command and waiting for something worse to follow. Something worse always followed. It had every time he’d given in to how much pain he was feeling.

“Michael, look at me.”

He slowly opened his tear swollen eyes and looked up at the shadowy figure above him. He didn’t need the dim lights of the trailer to know whose hands were gripping his shoulders even if he hoped he was wrong.

“I told you not to come,” Michael croaked out, embarrassed when his voice broke on the last word. He could hear the weakness and water in his voice. The creaking dam of emotion he still hadn’t cried out threatening to burst back through at any moment.

“Michael,” Alex said his name again, soft and chiding. One of his hands, the one on the uninjured shoulder, rubbed soothingly up and down his arm.

“I don’t want you here,” Michael said again, trying to ignore the way his body was already loosening its cramped curl in response to Alex’s skin on his.

“I know. I know,” Alex agreed, before crawling over Michael and laying himself down with his back to the window. His body faced Michaels on the bed and his hand never stopped its slow back and forth movement over his tricep. “But I couldn’t hear you like that and not come check on you. Where did all of that come from, babe?”

The pet name felt like a puncture in the last piece of his heart that had been intact. He felt his breath shuddering past his lips as he tried to contain himself enough to answer. He must’ve taken too long, because he felt Alex’s body slide closer and arms wrap around him, pressing him into the warm, herbaceous scent of Alex’s shirt. He rested his cheek against the top of Michael’s head and Michael felt their knees brush against each other. Michael’s fingers uncurled from where they’d been clenched tight against his own chest and he reached forward, wrapping the fabric of Alex’s shirt into his hands as he felt more sobs break free from his body. He tried to keep them quiet, but he knew he wasn’t fooling anyone anymore. At least no one in this trailer.

“Hey, I’m here. I’m sorry I’m here if you really don’t want me to be. But you’re obviously hurting right now. I can’t just let that happen and not see if I can help. We’re friends, right? Friends don’t let each other hurt like this without trying to comfort them,” Alex murmured softly into his hair. Those warm, gentle hands were now petting his hair and rubbing his back. He could feel his muscles loosening and the fight going out of him. He just wanted to melt into the man in front of him. He wanted to be the one who carved out a place under his skin and lived there for the few days they’d have together. He wanted to be the one who left the hollow spaces for once.

“You didn’t tell me you were coming back,” Michael murmured into the space between Alex’s shoulder and neck. “ _Friends_ keep in fucking touch. _You_ never tell when you’re coming back and when you’re here, you never stay. You find an excuse and disappear. I always wake up used up and alone.”

“Guerin….” Alex started, sighing heavily.

“Don’t call me by my last name. I get it, I’m just… part of coming back here. A chore you check off your list. You don’t have to keep coming here if you don’t want me, Alex,” Michael finished, uncramping his fingers from Alex’s shirt and starting to pull himself away. He was getting a headache from crying and the liquor and the long day. He was ready to turn over and go to sleep. He didn’t want to do this anymore.

“Michael,” Alex started again, his tone softer than before even as his hands held Michael firmly in place, not letting him draw away. “I don’t know what to say here. You’re not a chore. I will never and have never thought of you as an obligation. I always look forward to seeing you, but we don’t run in the same circles. We never have. And this never goes anywhere because I’m always going to leave. I can’t stay here with you, Michael, I’m sorry. Coming back to Roswell always leaves me feeling like I’ve time traveled and gotten stuck in a time vaccuum.”

Michael felt the burn begin again behind his eyes and his throat start to tighten.

“But when I’m here, I’m yours. You’re one of the only good things I get out of coming home,” Alex finished, finally letting go of Michael and drawing back to lay his head down beside Michael’s on the mattress. Michael felt a tear drip off his cheek as he stared at the fathomless brown eyes staring into his. He hoped Alex hadn’t seen the tear because of the shadow on his face, the dark hiding how much he always hurt when Alex was with him. Sometimes it was knives, sometimes it was ecstasy, but always it was pain.

“I’m yours, too. When you’re here, I’m yours,” Michael finally responded in a small voice, sliding his hands over Alex’s chest and up to cup his jaw gently. He’d decided he had all he could handle of the knives for tonight. Now he wanted the ecstasy. He wanted to hold Alex on his tongue and under his fingernails and inside of him. He needed the memories to get through another three years of his heart being caught in a fist of anxious worry over whether he’d get to see Alex alive again. How much of the Alex he loved would be left after more witnessed atrocities in name of his country?

Alex leaned in, pressing their foreheads together, his breath brushing Michael’s lips and chin. Michael didn’t want Alex to remember him like this.

“Let me up, I’m going to take a quick shower. I really am… pretty fucking filthy right now,” Michael admitted, laughing weakly. Alex smiled and nodded, pressing a kiss to his mouth before sitting up to watch him. Michael sat up, noting that while not trashed, he was still a little floaty. He was sober enough to feel embarrassed about Alex having to come rescue him because he was naked, drunk, and emotional. He stood and managed the two steps to the bathroom, turning on the water in the cubicle shower. He walked in and let the warm water wash over him, the thudding of his heart in his ears as he leaned forward, setting his hands on either side of the shower head. He let his forehead rest against the back of the shower stall while he tried to wrap his mind around the night so far. Another fine mess he’d made. A breeze at his back made him look over his shoulder and he saw Alex stepping into the tiny space with him. 

“I’m not sure this shower is big enough for anything athletic,” Michael commented trying to ignore his bodies near Pavlovian response to seeing Alex naked. Alex hummed at him and wrapped his arms around Michael’s wet torso, pulling their bodies flush together under the water spray.

“I’m just helping you wash your back,” he teased, reaching past Michael and pulling the bar of soap down from the inset shelf. Michael closed his eyes and nodded, trying not to feel overwhelmed at how easy this was when it shifted from emotions to sex. How his body was always ready to forgive the sins and slights his mind had tallied up between them. How starved he was for this feast of flesh between them.

Michael groaned as he felt Alex’s hands start to slide over his wet skin, the bar of soap adding a welcome pressure against his abused muscles. His cock which had started to perk up at the view of Alex naked was starting to harden and strain towards his stomach with every brush of Alex’s body against his. It was impossible for Alex to move without some part of him touching Michael’s in the small space of the airstream’s shower. Michael couldn’t even turn around without them having to negotiate intensely so as not to end up with an elbow in someone’s eye or a knee bruising.

While Michael tried to find his focus, he felt Alex’s hands going over everywhere on him. Those well-defined hands were sliding up and down his back and over his shoulders and arms. His square, thin artist’s hands massaged Michael’s sides and then slid down to dig into the muscles of his lower back, and again lower onto his ass cheeks, dipped his thumbs into his crack and back out and around. He’d replaced the soap on the shelf and then his hands were sliding up Michael’s stomach and over his chest, pulling his back flush against Alex’s body. He felt Alex’s teeth settle onto his shoulder, even as his hips ground forward, his hard cock sliding between Michael’s cheeks making him moan loudly. He reached behind himself and grabbed at Alex’s hip, trying to pull him closer and let him grind harder against his backside. He felt Alex push his cock down, angling it low and letting it slip into the space between Michael’s legs. The spongey, hard tip tracing over his tight pucker and perineum, teasing behind his balls before drawing back. Immediately he closed his thighs as Alex started to pump his hips with earnest, water and soap helping slick the way for Alex’s cock. With every catch of Alex’s cock on his hole, he felt his sanity slipping from him. He wanted to feel him stretching his insides open, pushing his way in and making a home for himself in Michael’s body.

“Fuck, Michael, you feel so good. I want to be in you, babe. I wish I could just slip in,” Alex gasped into the meat of his shoulder, a hand sliding between their bodies so Alex could press and rub his fingers over where Michael needed him most, “right here. I want to be right here with you. Do you want that, babe?”

Even as his other hand drifted down to land on Michael’s achingly hard cock, Michael was grinding back against Alex’s hand, letting the tip of one finger breach him. It wasn’t enough, but it still felt like being on a better plane of existence. Michael groaned, reveling in the slick soapy slide of Alex’s hand on him and the slow thrusting motions that had been taken back up behind him driving him insane.

“Do you want that, Michael? Can I get you out of this shower and lay you down and take you apart? Make you scream for me? Get you nice and dirty again?”

“Alex,” he sighed, body throbbing with his need for this man. His name felt like a prayer and a curse and he could remember all too well how good Alex was at making him come apart at the seams.

“What do you want, Michael?” Alex asked, stilling his movements and just hugging Michael’s body back against his. He didn’t sound angry, just inquiring, as if he cared what Michael really wanted from him. His breath was ragged against the back of Michael’s ear. He sounded as desperate as Michael felt. Awkwardly, Michael turned and maneuvered until here could partially face Alex. The water was starting to cool in the shower and it only heightened how unnaturally warm his skin was in the small space. Michael looked at the water dripping from Alex’s hair and down his glorious, golden body. He took in the intense stare those dark chocolate eyes had pinned on him and could suddenly see what Mimi had meant. Alex looked like he was trying to figure Michael out, like he was waiting for an epiphany to what all of this meant. Michael knew he must be looking at Alex like he was the answer, because he was. He was the answer to all the questions that Michael had.

He leant in and pressed his lips to Alex’s. He tried to give Alex some of the answer he was looking for in that kiss, using his lips and tongue to spell out the words ‘I love you’. Alex kissed him back, equaling his fervor and clutching at his back and neck to keep him close. When they broke for air, Michael reached back to the shower wall and shut off the water.

“Take care of me, Alex. Love me. Fucking wreck me. Do whatever you want,” he gritted out the last words feeling reckless as he was lunging forward to begin kissing again. Alex hummed his understanding against Michael’s mouth and they stumbled, dripping, out of the shower stall. Michael backed Alex up against the small sink and broke away from his lips to start kissing down his chest and stomach. His knees hit the floor hard and he ran his hands up Alex’s thighs while he stared up into his face. Alex looked down at him in hunger, hand cradling his jaw before Michael leant forward and took the head of his cock into his mouth. His eyes fluttered at the clean taste of his skin and the familiar firm length of him sliding over his tongue. He looked through his eyelashes up at Alex to see him gripping the counter and biting his lip as he watched Michael take him down over and over. This is what power felt like.

On a whim, Michael grabbed the back of Alex’s thighs and pulled him slightly forward as he dove his head in, letting Alex’s cock slip into his throat where he swallowed around it. Alex’s hand shot out, diving into the wet curls on Michael’s head, tugging as he groaned at the sensation. Michael pulled back and slowly worked his way back down the next time, letting Alex appreciate his gag control as his nose brushed the other’s pubes.

“Shit, Michael, if you keep that up I’m going to cum down your throat,” Alex gasped out, failing to stop his hips from a small fluid grind into Michael’s mouth as he looked down at him. Michael pulled back, wrapping his hand around Alex’s prick and continuing to jack him slowly while he answered. 

“Better get the first one out of the way, Alex. I want you to be able to fuck me for hours,” he replied.

“Fuck, Michael,” Alex breathed his name almost reverently, tightening his hand in Michael’s curls momentarily. Michael took his hand away from Alex’s cock, letting it jut into the air between them. Then he opened his mouth, sticking his tongue out and looking up at Alex expectantly. Biting his lip, Alex used his unoccupied hand to grip his dick and feed it over Michael’s tongue and into his mouth. He wasn’t truly thrusting, just letting the hot flesh slide shallowly in and out of Michael’s open mouth. “You’re so good at that, Michael. You’re so fucking perfect for me. I love it when you’re cock hungry and needy like this.”

“Make me yours, Alex. I want you to claim me,” Michael replied after backing off for a moment. He stared at Alex, running his hands over any bit of skin he could reach. He’d never get tired of touching Alex this way. The smooth, tan skin showing off the now familiar muscles the Air Force had trained into him. He took Alex back in his mouth, tongue gliding liquidly over the silky skin and lips pulling him closer to orgasm with every deep swallow. Michael reveled in this feeling of giving Alex what he wanted, what he thought he needed, and knowing if he stopped at just the right time, he could have him begging. But he didn’t want him to beg. He only wanted him to keep wanting to come back.

“Shit, Michael. Oh fuck, just like that, baby. I’m so close. Do you want me to come in your mouth?” Alex asked, breathless and desperate sounding. Michael could tell he was close, could feel the tightening of his body and the final swell starting in his cock before he blew his load. He nodded minutely, catching Alex’s eyes and winking up at him. Alex just whimpered and panted, hips started to stutter against Michael’s mouth, losing their rhythm as Alex’s body started to overload on sensation. Then Michael was swallowing, letting the warm, salty spurts from Alex’s body rest only a moment on his tongue before pulling it in. He held Alex in his mouth until he finished and calmed down, then slowly backed off, licking the skin clean as he went. Alex twitched from the overstimulation, but Michael was fully aware of how much Alex could handle before it become too much.

“Come here,” Alex breathed as he pulled Michael up from his knees. His kiss was sloppy and slightly uncoordinated since his orgasm, but Michael let him take control of it anyway. He liked Alex like this, sated but still hungry for more.

“Go to the bed, grab lube and a condom, and get on your hands and knees for me,” Alex commanded against his lips. Michael felt a shudder go through his body as he met Alex’s eyes. He loved it when Alex told him what to do. Alex held his gaze for a moment before leaning in towards his ear and whispering, “Go on now. I’ll be there in a minute.”

Michael turned and walked back into the main area of the Airstream. He reached into the drawer under his bed and pulled out the half-used bottle of lube and a condom. He threw them onto the bed by his pillow before crawling forward on his hands and knees to wait for Alex to come out of the bathroom. It wasn’t a long wait and it wasn’t a long walk before he felt Alex’s hands on his hips, thighs warm as they pressed against the back of his own. He pressed his hips back against Alex’s, back bowing and putting himself on display to entice Alex to hurry the fuck up already. A hand smoothed down his back, tracing his spine and then further down into the cleft between his cheeks, fingers once again resting against his hole.

“This where you want me, Michael?” Alex asked quietly, fingers rubbing small circles around the tight ring of muscle. Michael moaned and pressed his body back, needing more. “Use your words.”

“Yesss,” Michael hissed through his teeth, hands coming up to grip at his own damp curls. “Please Alex, I need you.”

“Okay, baby,” Alex said, bending hid body over Michael’s to grab the lube and condoms to have closer to him. He kissed along Michael’s back and ribs as he retreated, his teeth pinching small pieces of flesh between them and making Michael cry out softly with the exquisite pleasure-pain of it. He felt Alex’s body heat draw away from his and heard the scrape and shuffle of Alex moving behind him, but before he could glance past his shoulder to see what was happening, he felt Alex’s mouth on one of his ass cheeks, sucking and marking the flesh with his mouth. A wet finger prodded at his hole and he pushed back trying to let it sink in. Alex moved his finger away with Michael’s movement and he heard himself whining in frustration.

“I’m sorry, I’m being a tease,” Alex chuckled against the skin of his hip. He gave Michael a quick peck there and then Michael felt the pressure of his finger again. This time it didn’t stop, just slowly, inexorably pushed into him. He bit his lip to stop himself screaming in frustration. Alex slid his finger in and out, finger barely brushing over that bundle of nerves that would have Michael howling and feral if worked right.

“It’s not enough. More, Alex,” he begged. Alex’s mouth kissed the skin of his hip, then the dimple of his ass, and then closer still to where his finger and leisurely moving in and out of Michael’s body. Michael felt Alex’s lips then, a soft sucking caress on the skin stretched around his finger. Then the strange, erotic slide of his tongue. Michael’s body started to shake at the sensation, his cock giving a hard throb between his legs. Alex’s finger moved out of him and away, moved over to where it could splay over his ass cheek keeping Michael’s body pressed open wide for Alex’s mouth.

Alex’s mouth was a dream. His hot, wet tongue gave wide, long swipes from Michael’s balls to his hole. He felt his lips sucking on the skin of his pucker, his teeth scraping softly and making him cry out against his forearm. He felt the prod and push of the muscle working its way past the tight ring of Michael’s entrance and spearing into him over and over. Alex’s unoccupied hand came up and wrapped itself loosely around Michael’s red, angry cock. He could feel Alex working his pre around the crown, making his hand slick against the skin as he began working it while he ate Michael’s ass. It was almost too much. He could vaguely hear himself moaning and gasping, his body undulating between the tongue in his hole and the hand steadily milking his cock. He felt a tingle in his core, body starting to tighten on him in anticipation of coming.

“Alex, wait! I wanna come with your cock in me!” he cried out, even as he continued to thrust back against Alex’s face. The hand on his cock left him and he felt two fingers slip past Alex’s withdrawing tongue to start twisting and testing the muscles inside of him. Alex kept biting and sucking on the skin around his fingers, even as he hastily began to push a third on past Michael’s rim. It was a stretch and stung a little.

“More lube,” Michael gasped, his body hunching away from the invasion slightly. Alex paused and withdrew his fingers most of the way out of Michael’s body. Michael could feel the cold spill of more lube around his hole and onto Alex’s hand. With the next push inward, the third finger slid in easier and while still a stretch, it didn’t hurt. Alex was twisting and flexing his fingers, trying to make sure he wouldn’t hurt Michael when he finally pushed his cock in, and his knuckles finally skated over Michael’s prostate enough to make him seize up and cough out a shout of pleasure. He knew Alex had gotten the picture when he rubbed his knuckles over the same place again, this time with more pressure.

“Please, please, please, Alex,” Michael babbled, tears coming to his eyes as he fought down his body’s need to come. Alex was pressing on his spot with every thrust of his fingers now and Michael was fucking himself back on it even though it made him feel like he was about to shake apart.

“You think you’re ready?” Alex asked, his voice registering rough and strained even through Michael’s sex drunk brain.

“Yes, please Alex, I need you in me,” he cried.

“Okay,” Alex sighed, sounding grateful somehow to Michael’s ears. Michael heard the crinkling of the condom packet and then the blunt pressure of Alex’s cock pressing at his hole. He moaned, rocking backwards against the pressure and feeling the head pushing past his outer ring of muscles slowly. Alex’s hands came to rest at his waist lightly, not pulling or directing Michael’s movement, but simply resting while Michael did the work. Michael relished the feeling of Alex entering him, loved that first stretch and burn around the other man’s body. When he felt the head pop past the inner ring, he gasped, rocking forward and backwards over again feeling just the tip of Alex pulling at the edges of him. He heard a curse from behind him and glanced over his shoulder at Alex.

It was the first time he’d seen his face since they’d started this and he was glad it hadn’t happened until that moment. Alex looked wrecked. His eyes were glued down to where Michael was rocking onto him, lips red and swollen, face flushed, and abdomen muscles jumping as he tried to control his movements so as to let Michael play with him as much as he wanted. He was rock hard, but he wasn’t desperate the way Michael was.

His eyes flicked up and he saw Michael staring at him. He smiled and bit his lip, pushing his hips forward the next time Michael flexed back and Michael lost his breath as another few inches were pushed into him. His eyes fluttered closed and he turned back to lay his head on his forearms, overtaken with how good it felt to have Alex in him. Alex withdrew, leaving Michael feeling empty, until he pushed in again, giving him more. He continued until Michael could feel his hips flush against him and then he stilled.

“Shit,” he heard Alex curse softly behind him. He flexed his muscles around the mass inside of him and felt the responding, possibly unconscious, grind of Alex against him.

“How do you still feel like this? You always feel like you were made for this, Michael. You always feel like you were made for me,” Alex asked in wonder, pulling back and starting a slow, deep rhythm that made Michael feel like he was going to explode. A hand smoothed up his back and hooked onto his shoulder, pulling Michael’s body with Alex’s and making it feel as he were able to push deeper with every thrust. Then the hand was pulling Michael up, pulling him back so he was on his knees, back bowed and gravity helping to push him down harder onto Alex. He felt Alex’s mouth on his shoulder and neck, his arms wrapping around his chest, roaming over his skin, tweaking his nipples and dipping past his navel to stroke at his drooling cock.

“Alex,” Michael sighed, one hand holding Alex’s head behind him, the other resting on Alex’s hip. “I need more.”

“What do you need?” Alex asked, body still fluidly fucking into Michael’s in that slow, deep draw and push. This position was much better for Michael’s prostate, but it just wasn’t enough. He needed more.

“Harder,” Michael gasped on a particularly pointed thrust, “Faster.”

Alex’s hands went to Michael’s hips to steady him and then he was picking up the pace. Michael felt the moans tumble out of him as Alex’s hips started slapping his, cock pistoning in and out of him, running sharply over his prostate and bringing him back to the crescendo of pleasure.

“Oh fuck, like that. Don’t stop, Alex, fuck, don’t stop,” Michael cried, finally putting a hand on himself and jacking his aching cock in counterpoint to Alex’s thrusts. He could hear Alex’s huffing breath and occasional grunts behind him, could feel his fingers starting to dig into the meat of his muscles, could feel his own body tightening around Alex’s cock, trying to keep him inside of him. His orgasm hit him like a freight train. His vision whited out, his body seizing up around Alex and his cock swelling and releasing over his fingers and palm. He felt Alex fuck him through it, thrusts jagged and almost too much against his prostate, but then he too was groaning like he was dying and slowing inside of Michael. Michael felt pulled back onto Alex’s lap and enjoyed the wet pants of breath against his sweat sheened shoulder blade.

Alex was always languorous and tactile after he came. He would hold Michael against him until he was too soft to stay inside and then he would let his fingers play over Michael’s puffed hole. He would kiss all the sweat from his body and murmur sweet nothings into his skin. Then he could get hard again and they’d go for another round until Michael was too sore or the sun came up, whichever was first. After the last time, sleepy and wrapped around Michael like an octopus, Alex would fall asleep with his head on Michael’s chest, breath softly stirring the golden curls of hair, and Michael would try to stay awake as long as he could because if he fell asleep, like with most good dreams, Alex would be gone once he woke up. Alex would leave while Michael slept, texting him later that he was sorry he had to go before Michael woke, and then he’d leave the country to fight some rich man’s war for him. Michael would once again cover up the place Alex had made for himself in his body and heart. He’d once again drown himself in the arms of others or the bottom of bottles, but that place stayed hidden and safe and waiting for Alex to come back home.

**Author's Note:**

> Would love to hear what you guys thought of this! 
> 
> If you ever wanna chat Malex with me, feel free to come see me on Tumblr at [ SkinSharpenedTeeth ](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/skinsharpenedteeth). I'm pretty friendly even if I'm socially awkward.


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